


I'll Keep Your Secrets

by babydollbucky



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Internalized Homophobia, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 01:48:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16924242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babydollbucky/pseuds/babydollbucky
Summary: Peggy notices something... odd about their resident sniper. Something that could affect Steve. So she confronts him, only to learn that it's not what she thought-- it's worse.





	I'll Keep Your Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> I've always loved the idea of Bucky thinking there was something dark in him, and wanting to protect Steve from that perceived darkness. 
> 
> Beta'd by [LuvMeAlwayz](%E2%80%9CURL%E2%80%9D). 
> 
> Hope you enjoy. :)

The man who walked back to camp at Steve’s side had clearly been through something horrible. There was a terrifying darkness in his pale blue eyes, set in a boyish, but sunken face. He was beautiful, different from the way that Steve was. Where Steve was golden and exuded righteousness, this man was ebony, quiet, dark, fighting to hold on to his humanity. When they looked at each other, Steve with his shy smile, and the other stone-faced, Peggy knew that this must be the friend Steve was looking for.

Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, sniper with the 107th Infantry Regiment, former POW. And now, Howling Commando.

She had caught the way his eyes had lingered on Steve when she walked into the pub in her red dress. She saw how he watched for his reactions, staying close to his side.

The juxtaposition of the two of them standing side by side was startling. Steve looked pristine in his starched dress greens, with his new medals pinned to his lapel, his hair combed neatly. Barnes, also displaying new hardware, looked a mess. His hair clearly hadn’t been combed, though he had bathed. His greens were wrinkled and ill-fitting on his underweight body. His eyes were still clouded with something ominous.

He was competent, charming, mischievous. He wasn’t afraid to tell Steve when his plan was implausible, or when he was being downright stubborn. He was a perfect gentleman without being patronizing. He loved watching Howard work on his gadgets.

But, she noticed something over the months she spent working with the Howlies. He stuck close to Steve. In the cold, in the rain, when eating, drinking, fighting. The only time he was far from Steve was when he was scoping out their camp or actively covering the men. In fact, she would say he was almost _too_ close to Steve.

He was a friendly man, she understood. He slapped the men on the back when laughing, he consoled them with a hand on the shoulder. He was tactile with everyone.

But with Steve, his touches weren’t the fleeting things of most men. He seemed permanently attached to Steve, in the way he slung an arm over Steve’s neck, in the way he bent their heads together when crafting strategies. The way his eyes lingered on Steve in any given moment was telling as well.

She hadn’t been in America long, but she had never, there or in England, come across a man who acted like James Barnes.

It wasn’t offputting, and she had no issues with him. But it was strange. She thought she might be the only one who thought so, and so she kept her mouth shut. He was a good soldier, that was all she cared about.

Except, it kept popping up in her brain that there was something _else_ there.

It clicked one night after she witnessed them sharing a meal in the mess while they were enjoying a short leave. Steve was poring over a map they managed to take from the last bunker they’d destroyed. He was saying something about how the map didn’t match the actual layout of the building, and how maybe it was a map to a different base.

Barnes didn’t speak for at least ten minutes. He watched Steve for those ten minutes.

_Oh, I see_.

Steve never seemed to notice what she did. The looks, the touches--he was probably so used to it that he didn’t see anything strange about it.

Barnes was going to get them both into trouble if he didn’t reign in his--his…

_Bloody hell._

She had no problem with people of different inclinations, and she didn’t think anyone else should either. However, the military did not agree with her, and if someone were to accuse Barnes of being inappropriate, or worse, well.

She preferred not to think about it.

She would much rather _do_ something about it. So she did.

That night, while the Howlies sat around the fire Jacques built, she stood in front of Steve and Barnes, huddled together like usual. They both looked up from the log they sat on with nearly identical looks of confusion.

“Good evening. I wondered if I might borrow some of Sergeant Barnes’ time,” she announced. The two men shared a glance, before turning back to her.

“Of course, Agent Carter. I’ll see you later, Steve,” Barnes answered. Steve nodded and said goodnight.

He stood and followed her into an empty tent, the one furthest from the fire. She sat on the makeshift desk and crossed her ankles.

Fear flashed across Barnes’ face, but he hid it quickly, adopting his trademark charming smile.

“How can I help you, Agent?” he asked pleasantly.

She eyed him for a few moments, not trying to intimidate him, but to feel him out. He didn’t know what this was about, but he had something to be afraid of.

“How long have you known Steve, Sergeant?” He tilted his head, obviously confused by the question.

“Bucky is fine. Fifteen years, ma’am. Since he was 8 and I was 9,” he answered her, apparently sensing no ill will from her.

“That’s a long time. Most of your lives. How would you describe what Steve is to you?” She had no desire to prolong this conversation. He startled, but answered truthfully.

“I...don’t think I can. I don’t think there are words. He’s...Steve,” he shrugged. “Can I ask what this is about?”

She pursed her lips.

“Are you aware, Sergeant, of how your military handles accusations of indecency?” she steamrolled forward, not willing to lose momentum or let him talk his way out of this.

His eyes widened, almost imperceptibly, and his brows drew closer together.

“I’m sorry? Am I being accused of something, ma’am?” he asked with an edge to his voice. He was angry, but also frightened.

“Not at all, I just wondered how familiar you are with disciplinary protocol regarding… men who act inappropriately in their eyes,” she informed him gently.

“I do know what happens--pink slip, dishonorable discharge, arrest, prison, death. Have you heard something, Agent Carter? Someone in trouble?”

She sighed, knowing he needed to know what she was getting at.

“Not yet. But I advise you to be very careful with your affections.”

He stilled, and struggled to hide his shock. He looked like a panicked animal, and she felt for him. But she felt it was her duty to protect this man, whom Steve cared so much for, as well as Steve himself.

“You haven’t been as subtle as you think, Sergeant. I fear you may be caught out. Having you expelled from the Howling Commandos would deal a serious blow to morale, and to Steve. I have no desire to see that happen, nor to see you suffer more than you already have.”

He was breathing heavily, still frozen in place. Then, his eyes flashed in anger, and he stepped forward. To anyone else, it might have been intimidating. To her, it was only telling.

“How dare you accuse me of--”

“I’m not accusing you of anything, James,” she cut in calmly.

“Then what _are_ you doing? What is this, some kind of trap?” he demanded with a snarl, teeth bared.

“No. I’m simply trying to warn you. You’re too obvious, and it will get you into trouble if you’re not careful.”

“I--I’m not--” he floundered. His face was red with embarrassment. She regretted having to do this, but feared what might happen if he wasn't made aware that others could see

“Don’t lie to me, Sergeant. I have eyes. You need to control yourself before you’re caught, and before you bring Steve down with you. I don’t care what you do in your spare time, but I won’t allow it to interfere with our work. And I won't see you endure more harsh treatment.”

He was quiet for a long time. She knew that silence; it was the recognition of having been made. The concern of someone knowing a secret, and not knowing if you could trust them to keep it. She hoped he could see that she truly cared and wanted to help him. She motioned for him to speak.

“Steve’s not...he’s not like that,” he said softly, all the fight having left him. “And I would never let him take the fall for…”

All at once, she understood what she had been missing.

_Oh..._

It wasn’t just an attraction to men, or to his best friend.

He was in _love_ with Steve.

This broken man, Steve’s best friend since they were small, who’d known him much longer than she had (and better), was in love with him.

More than learning of his torture at the hands of Zola, this information made her heart squeeze in pity.

“James…” she said in sympathy; his eyes were glistening with tears that he was trying to keep from falling. “Does he know?”

His shoulders slumped, and his eyes slammed shut. He took a long inhale, and on the exhale, his spine straightened, his eyes opened, and he met Peggy's own with a look of fierce protectiveness. But when he answered, it was with fear, and an underlying sadness.

“No. And he never will.”

He was intent on keeping Steve ignorant to his feelings, on keeping him safe. She understood that desire, because she felt it, herself.

“I'm certain that--”

“Don't you dare, Carter. Don't you say anything to him,” Bucky spat. And then, pleading, “Promise me you won't say anything.”

“Alright.” She faced him head on, and with a nod, assured him she wouldn't. “Not a word, I swear it.”

He visibly relaxed, but there was still a dim melancholy lingering in his eyes.

“You know, when I figured it out, I thought I would die without anyone knowing. It would break his heart.”

“What do you mean?” she asked carefully.

He shrugged and told her, “Steve loves me. Not… not like that... But he does. He would feel terrible about my situation. And now, it would distract him. From the war, from you.”

She didn't know how to take that, so she waited for him to elaborate with narrowed eyes.

“He's so gone for you. He's-- I've never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. His whole face lights up. And you too, I can see how much you care about him,” James explained. He spoke so softly that she strained to hear him. “I'm glad he has you. No one on this planet deserves Steve. But you're as close to it as anyone can be.”

“But you hate me,” she guessed. She wasn't at all surprised when he shook his head and smiled.

“I wish I could. But you're everything he deserves, everything he needs. And he's happy when he's with you. I can't hate you for that.”

“So you'll pretend? For all your life?” she asked, genuinely sad for him. She understood the need to keep it to himself- she had reminded him of the possible ramifications. But it would be no kind of life.

“Mm-hmm. What else can I do? Even if he did feel like that about me--what kind of life would that be? Hiding and planning and lying to everyone. I couldn't do that to him. He's always wanted a family, a nice little house in a nice neighborhood where everyone looks out for each other.” He looked to the ground, small tears leaving trails on his cheeks. “I can't give that to him. But _you_ can. You can give him everything I can't.”

“James, I'm sorry,” she said sincerely, willing him to believe her.

“You don't have to be sorry. Just, promise me you'll be good to him. If-- if I don't make it out of here, you've gotta keep him safe. You know how stupid he is--”

“I do know. And I will do my best,” she cut him off. With a hand extended in front of her, she continued, “But for now, how about we all look after each other, hmm?”

He grasped her hand while wiping at his cheeks with the other.

“Deal,” he agreed, smiling gratefully. The grimness didn't escape her notice.

 

* * *

 

Two years later, she lost them both to the cold, and her failure stayed with her until 2012 when a man who wore Steve's face emerged in Manhattan, while fighting aliens in an exaggerated version of his suit.

He was alive!

In her niece's home, watching the news, she cried because she could still keep her promise to James. She thought of him often, for as long as her memory allowed.

In 2014 in a hospice bed, she saw on TV a man in black, harnessed like an animal, fighting Steve. She knew, somehow, that it was James. She couldn't see his face, he moved differently, and he shouldn't have been fighting Steve. But it was him. She never found out how he survived, or if he and Steve met again. But she was comforted by the fact that they were together in the world again.

She passed in 2016, falling asleep with the hope that Steve would again be happy when he and James found each other.


End file.
